


sick little spider

by sleeponrooftops



Series: raising webhead: a parenting guide, attempted by the science boyfriends [21]
Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Sick Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 20:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/841153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeponrooftops/pseuds/sleeponrooftops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter has been bedridden for a few days now, but he’s about to change beds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sick little spider

_Two months later._

_July, 2014_

Bruce is already gone when Tony rolls over and groans.  He looks blearily over at Bruce’s empty side for a few seconds before pushing up out of bed and walking slowly over to the door, already dressed in sweats and a shirt.  They haven’t been sleeping well the past few nights because Peter’s been sick, and this is the second night in a row Bruce has spent out of bed, eventually pulling Tony with him, as well.  He yawns as he pushes open their door, pads across the hall, and into Peter’s room, where Bruce is sitting on the edge of his bed, humming softly to him.

 

“Hey,” Tony says, coming up behind him and dropping a kiss on Bruce’s cotton shoulder, “How is he?”

 

Bruce leans into Tony, who sighs, winding his arms around him and trying to ignore the way Bruce is coiled so tight.  “I don’t know,” he says finally, and his voice cracks like he’s trying not to cry, “I think we should take him to the doctor tomorrow morning.”

 

Peter moans and curls tighter around Ollie, and Bruce reaches forward, brushing his damp hair away from his forehead.  He frowns, flipping his hand around to rest it against his temple, and then he’s shaking his head.  “Tony, feel that,” he says, reaching back for one of Tony’s hands.

 

Tony lets him, frowning when his hand comes in contact with Peter’s skin.  “I’ll get the thermometer,” he says, straightening, but Bruce already has it, sitting on the nightstand, and he carefully rouses Peter.

 

“Hey baby,” he says softly when Peter blinks open his eyes, lower lip trembling, “How are you feeling?”

 

“Daddy,” he mumbles, reaching for him.  Bruce pulls him into his lap, holding him close and rubbing his back as he starts coughing.  “I don’t feel good,” he says when the fit finally passes.

 

“Put this in your mouth for a little bit, okay?”

 

“Okay,” he says, opening his mouth.  Bruce sets it under his tongue, and Peter closes his mouth, but he’s opening it again in a few seconds, tears spilling out of his eyes as he says, “I can’t breathe through my nose.”

 

“Alright,” Bruce says, setting him back on the bed again and lifting up his shirt.  “Tony,” he says when he takes the thermometer back, and Tony takes one look at it before going to pack a bag.  Peter starts coughing again, his whole body trembling, and Bruce lifts him in his arms, carrying him toward the bathroom.

 

“Do you want me to call ahead?” Tony asks as he pokes his head in, looking over to where Bruce is sitting in front of the toilet, Peter in his arms with his head leaning against the cool porcelain.

 

“Yeah, sure,” Bruce says distractedly before he whispers to Peter, “We’re gonna go see the doctor, okay?”

 

 “Okay,” he says, settling against Bruce, and they stay there until Bruce is sure he’s not going to be sick again before he brings him back into the bedroom to wrap him up in his blanket, hand him Ollie, and then he heads into his and Tony’s bedroom, sitting Peter down on their bed.

 

 “Just stay there, okay?  I’m going to get dressed really quick, and then we’ll leave.”

 

“Is dad coming?” he asks, hunching in his blanket.

 

“Yeah, dad’s coming.”

  
Bruce sets about getting dressed properly, and Tony comes in when he’s finishing, tossing Peter’s bag toward the bed so he can do the same.  “I’ll meet you in the garage,” Tony says when Bruce gathers Peter in his arms again.  Bruce nods, and Tony makes short work of packing away a tablet, fitting an earphone in, and grabbing a handful of different green teas on his way out because he knows how Bruce is with other people’s tea.

 

Bruce is just going around to the passenger side when Tony gets into the garage, and Tony slides behind the wheel, tossing the bag in the back before he starts the car.  “They said not to bother calling his pediatrician, that they have his file and he’d just send us to the ER anyway.”

 

“Oh god,” Bruce says, closing his eyes.

 

“Have you been checking his temperature periodically?” Tony asks, looking over at Bruce worriedly.

 

“Yeah,” he says after a moment, “It was 102 two hours ago, I don’t know when it spiked.”

 

“Okay,” Tony says, and then they’re silent, Bruce reminding Tony not to speed by reaching for his hand.  When they get to the hospital, Peter is crying and coughing, and Bruce hurries to get him out of the car and inside, Tony grabbing the bag and following.

 

They already have a bracelet up at the front, and Peter sticks out his arm, sniffling, so they can fit it around his wrist, and then a nurse is approaching them.  “If you’ll just follow me, Mister Stark, Doctor Banner,” she says, and they follow her.

 

“Daddy,” Peter whispers, leaning his head on Bruce’s shoulder, “I’m scared.”

 

“It’s going to be okay, Peter, I promise,” Bruce says, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “You’ll be fine.”

  
“Promise?”

“Super promise.”

 

“Okay,” he mumbles before falling quiet, and so begins their hellish night.

 

Hours later, when Bruce is off getting tea and Peter is sleeping with an oxygen mask, Tony goes out into the hall and digs out his phone, dialing Steve and pacing while it rings.  “Tony?” Steve finally answers, “What time is it?”

 

“I’m sorry,” Tony says, and that alone stops whatever Steve was going to say next, “I just—Peter’s in the hospital, and I’m freaking out.”

 

“Oh god, Tony.  Is Bruce with you?”

 

“Yeah, he’s getting tea right now.”

 

“Is Peter okay?”

 

“I—I don’t know.  He had a fever of 105 when we left the house, and they’ve got him on oxygen right now, and I don’t know what to _do_.”  He knows he’s breaking, and he knows he’s going to regret doing it to Steve, but he and Bruce have become closer with Steve over the past year because he’s Peter’s favorite uncle, and he needs to talk to someone that isn’t Bruce.

 

“Just stay calm,” Steve says, “Don’t let Peter know you’re scared, or it’ll make things worse for him.  Do you want me there?”

 

“Maybe in the morning,” Tony says, sighing and leaning against one of the walls, “I know he’d like to see you, whether we’re still at the hospital or back at the Tower.”

 

“Well, let me know either way, I’ll be there.  Give my best to Bruce.  It’s going to be okay, Tony.”

 

“I know.  I’m sorry I called, I just—I needed someone that wasn’t Bruce, someone that wasn’t—I dunno.”

 

“Wasn’t right there freaking out with you?” Steve supplies, and Tony sighs again, “I get it, it’s okay.  Go be with Peter, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

 

“Thanks, Steve,” he says before hanging up, and he looks up as Bruce comes toward him.

 

“Who was that?” he asks as Tony puts away his phone.

 

“Steve.  I just needed to clear my head,” he says, and Bruce nods, handing over a cup of tea.  “C’mere,” Tony says, reaching for Bruce, who comes to him immediately, letting Tony fold him away in his arms and press their heads together, not moving until they’re both calm and breathing easy again.  They go back into Peter’s room, then, and try to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of figured this would end up being a two-parter, but this is it for now. But yeah, I figured it’s been too happy for a little while, so I needed to throw in some drama, and then we’ll be back to the adorableness. Don’t forget to leave your thoughts!


End file.
